


City in the Rearview

by apodiopsys



Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apodiopsys/pseuds/apodiopsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Javier is highschool royalty and Kevin plays his part as loyal subject.</p>
            </blockquote>





	City in the Rearview

**Author's Note:**

> written for the anonymous drabble/fic/ficlet-athon at ryanandesposito on livejournal.

Kevin isn’t surprised when he’s almost pushed into his locker, the books in his hands sliding out of his grip and dropping to the floor, landing open on pages that show the biological makeup of arm tissue and algebraic equations. He tries to hide the fact that his pulse has suddenly up and doubled, and turns around, lips curled into a half frown, facing the piece of high school royalty.

“Ryan,” says the Hispanic quarterback shortly, clad in a red and white letterman jacket. His hair is shaved close to his head, Kevin’s last name rolling off his tongue like a damnation and a blessing all in one. “I’m gonna need to copy your homework again, otherwise Rick is gonna pull a few favors and make sure that it’s you who gets his detentions for the next month.” Kevin looks out of the corner of his eye, sees the group of kids that Javier usually hangs out with: the popular ones, the ones who are bigger and better than life - the ones who know it and abuse it. Like now. Esposito takes a step forward, backing him up so he’s one step closer to the inside of his locker. “And then I was thinking that you’d come over after football practice so you can teach me how to do that algebra shit.”

The look that he gives him is layered, Kevin knows exactly what it means. He takes another step back, unwillingly, because he could say no, he really could. Javier isn’t the bad-boy persona that he puts up between the hours of eight and three, Monday to Friday. If he said no, then life would move on and that’d be the end of things. But he can’t say no anymore than he can’t help being a good student. “Okay,” he says, and then, “Football is done at six, right?” Esposito rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer the question: they both know the answer to that. Kevin pretends not to look when the quarterback goes back to the rest of the royal court, arm sliding around the waist of a perky blond cheerleader.

Later on they’re in Esposito’s bedroom, posters of bands and NFL football players watching them from the walls. Text books from the algebra that Kevin actually did attempt to help him with are lying open on the floor, pieces of clothing lying next to them. Kevin drags his hands up the smooth expanse of his back, red lines from short nails barely visible against his naturally tan latino skin. A moan vibrates through his chest, Javier’s hands gripping his hips tighter and tighter, until he can feel bruises forming on the bones, one that he can fit his own hands into tomorrow, come thinking about how once upon a time it was Esposito, high school prince who had his hands there.

Except that, when he isn’t the crowd from school, Rick and Kate and Tom and Jen - all interchangeable with one syllable names - he isn’t one of the princes, he isn’t one of the ones who run it all with good looks and easy smiles that charm the teachers into doing their business. What he isn’t with the rest of the royal court, he’s just Javier Esposito, Kevin’s in-the-closet most-of-the-time boyfriend, the one who does stupid things like buying him flowers and leaving them in his locker and sending him silly poems. He’s the one who makes Kevin feel like he’s flying, twisting his hips to make him fall apart.

In theory, Esposito is his from after school and after football practice and sometimes on the weekends. But then sometimes he gets a text that’s asking him to go to a party, a text that has enticing promises of free booze and easy girls that the high school prince part of Esposito can’t deny. So then Kevin gets a kiss on the cheek and the promise of a call that might not even come, and Kevin pretends not to care while he watches Javier’s car drive down the road to turn at the corner, and he pretends not to feel used, like he was just played like a game of snakes and ladders.


End file.
